A Camellia Among Dahlias and Other Trivial Flowers
by xxBlindDollxx
Summary: When Agetha Elwood wishes to become an author, and receive the best education she possibly can in her preparation for it, she sneaks her way into Weston College, an all-boy school for the rich aristocracy. Disguised as "Aaron Eades", how long can she keep up the act?
1. Weaseling into Weston

A rather small, ebony colored carriage made several distinct, wooden sounds as its wheels rolled along the weathered cobblestone path. Within the coach rested a young blonde girl with wavy locks and her fussy, aged governess who wore a displeased expression.

"Remember, Agetha, you musn't become involved with any of the young men at this school; exposure would ruin your father's career, and any of these silly author intentions you have will be dashed," the old woman wagged her wrinkled finger out at the teenager before retracting it and folding her hands neatly in her lap, "Honestly, I can not imagine why he let you go through with this in the first place." She blew out hot air after the last word left her agitated, pale lips.

Agetha continued to gaze out the carriage window, as if mapping out an escape route through the bramble, and simply answered, "I haven't the slightest clue, but I'm glad he finally saw things my way." Her face wore no particular expression as she said this, and her light blue eyes continued to scan the area, while the horses kept trotting along the beaten road with heavy hooves.

Today would begin her first year, or "form", at Weston College, a prestigious public school where all the aristocracy of England wished to send their heirs so they may acquire its status for themselves, despite its ridiculously high tuition. However, the young lady was not interested in the status as much as she was the academic privileges, for Weston was a place where students could enjoy the most sophisticated of educations available in the entire empire.

The problem in her enrollment here did not lie in her intellectual capability, but rather her gender. The school was a place where only males could attend, and that was certainly a requirement she couldn't work upon. She soon pleaded with her father to conjure up a new birth certificate with one of the families who worked beneath them, groveling in her request, and surprisingly her wish had been granted. The whole reason behind why Agetha had asked in the first place was so that she might become an author in her later days, which required skills above the average Victorian girl's tutoring, and creating her male alias while in school would hopefully lead her toward better connections in the future. It was a brilliant plan she had concocted, truly, but she did understand the risks she was taking by attending the college.

With this in mind, she pulled back her bangless curls and tied them into a flowing ponytail resting on the back of her shoulders, adorned with a blue ribbon. Many of the other boys had long hair, she had researched ahead of time, and as long as makeup was out of the question - the blonde was convinced she could pass as male. Her breasts were not well developed, even with hitting puberty at an early age, and slender boys were not all that uncommon within the country. The only issue she fretted over would be infatuation, and no not toward her - but from her, since she wasn't so blind as to be oblivious of her feelings. Most young girls her age were already engaged, or had their families scouting for their "coming-out" parties that were soon to come, but those were more business deals than affections. She knew, however, that around all of the young men her heart would be vulnerable - or at least she imagined it would be. Her governess simply rejected the plan altogether for etiquette required her to be with the young lady at all times when a male was present even in the room; the situation lit many fuses within her.

Eventually, the coach did reach a halt and the cross-dresser stepped lightly out of the cart, revealing her formal leather shoes, blackened wool trousers, dark morning coat, and her specially crafted top hat for her puny head. This was the considered uniform for the students, and she hoped not to forget her simple hat on a rushed morning, for it was a new accessory to her. Several other boys seemed to rush down the paths of the school, and Agetha deduced that she must have already been running later than she thought for the opening ceremony. She took note that no one stepped within a foot of the edges of the grass lawns and she figured them to be off limits as she dashed with the others. This in itself was a new experience for her, for a young lady should never romp about like a wild beast, and she enjoyed the freedom she was already receiving on the new grounds.

In the meantime, she expected her footman and governess would prepare the luggage accommodations since none of the other boys seemed to give a single care for theirs. Ah, what an easy life they led.

* * *

><p>Once within the solemn gothic chapel, the female weaved through the blabbering crowds until she found a safe distance away from the other students. She figured no one would recognize her here, without makeup, unpinned hair, and the lack of a hoop skirt, but it was better to be safer than sorry this early in the game. Socializing wouldn't be out of reach for much longer, she figured as she estimated about 200 boys were situated in the church.<p>

A few minutes passed before the looming doors were finally shut, and a hush fell over the adolescent crowd as a rather tall man dressed in tutor robes and a graduation cap approached the podium on the alter's stage. Taking this as the beginning of the ceremony, Agetha and the other standing students took a seat upon the ivory colored benches of the chapel.

"Good morning, gentlemen, I am Johann Agares, Vice Headmaster of this glorious, English institution. As of today, you are all my students and shall follow all of Weston College's rules and traditions; there are no exceptions to this," at first the man had seemed rather friendly, but his last phrase had caused his eyes to grow fierce and cold with threat, "As long as you keep this in mind, I am sure you will all have a wonderful and meaningful experience here along with your fellow brothers!"

He took this moment to circle around the podium, but before he could give a real send-off, he tripped off the stage and smacked the middle of his forehead clear on the hard, wooden floor. With blood now trickling down the side of his face, the Vice Headmaster extended his hand and acted as if his clumsy mistake hadn't just happened. "Welcome!" Everyone threw him questioning glances, and some whispered a few inaudible mumbles, before a group of four older boys stepped forward - still on the stage. Each one bore a different color: A blonde flirty type dressed in a velvet rouge vest wore a hairstyle rivaling Agetha's, the other blonde was stocky with piercing green eyes, a chiseled jawline, and an olive plaid vest, the brunette with chopped bangs and glasses held a book close to his blue, white-bordered vest, and the final boy dressed in a violet argyle held the girl's interest the most. Instead of an appropriate hat for the ceremony, he simply wore a shadowed hood, lined in a midnight purple, and his tie was carelessly fashioned into a bow; his hair was far more peculiar than any eccentric woman's she had ever seen, and yet his ebony locks were in a lovely contrast to the bleached streak that delicately framed his heart-shaped, made up face. The teenage girl felt the need to compliment him at that exact moment, for that was much to her nature if she found intrigue, but she repressed the urge and waited patiently for the meeting to continue.

The upperclassmen had introduced themselves as the prefects of the institution, and were named: Edgar Redmond of Scarlet Fox House, Herman Greenhill of Green Lion House, Lawrence Bluewer of Sapphire Owl House, and lastly - Gregory Violet of Violet Wolf House. Each house held its own significance on the campus from the nobles, to the physically adept, and the studious intellectuals, to the artistically gifted. Greenhill then took another firm step forward and ordered, "Alright lads, gather into your houses and get ready to move!"

All of the boys' eyes widened and they bustled about, trying to stand in front of the prefects' fags (AN: This is not a term that is meant to be subjective, it is simply the term used in the series to refer to the bond between an upperclassman and a specific lowerclassman). The blonde glanced down at her waistcoat, checking the patch once more for confirmation, and then proceeded to her sorted house's group. A sea of boys dressed in striped blue ties awaited her as they were led away toward Blue House. Secretly she wished that she had been put into "Purple House", now that she knew what their prefect looked like, but she knew the academic road was far more suited to her objective than his house. Though, it truly was a shame - eye candy never hurt when trying to reach a goal.

Once outside the arched gates of Sapphire Owl House, the prefect's fag, Clayton, called roll for the first time. Many names were listed and answered before Agetha finally spoke on the school grounds.

"Aaron Eades!"

"Here!" she answered possibly a little too loudly while raising her hand. "_Hopefully_," she kept to herself, _"I'll learn to answer to this name without thinking too much about it._"


	2. Blue House Knowledge

After the final name was announced and answered, the entire group of knowledge seekers flooded into the building of Sapphire Owl House. However, waiting for them behind the grand entry, there stood a sea of upperclassmen who held out a large, unfurled tarp - with devious faces of mischief. "Congratulations~!" each boy sang in a deep unison while their smirks grew ever wider. "Eades" and the other first forms backed away slowly, fright now quite present on each of their features, but the pack was blocked from turning away from the scene when they spotted Clayton guarding the doors behind them.

"Welcome to Blue House, boys." The fag readjusted his glasses, reflecting a slight glare off of them, before ordering, "Proceed with tradition!" The sole girl in the room easily noticed the joy in his tone as he barked, and was afraid about what was to come next.

Just then, a shaggy, brown haired owlet was plucked off from the front of the horde and sent into flight as the other students tossed him up and down using the hardy fabric. Agetha edged towards the back of the crowd, hoping to gain some slack, but was instead easily pushed forward in her light-weight attempts. Her pale blue eyes only widened when a hand latched itself to her arm, dragging her onto the tarp's second round, and her lips remained utterly silent until her body flew up in midair. She made a few high-pitched wails, not unlike the boy before her, and after she was through her third lift - she was released to the other side of the older crowd. A red-headed student handed the blonde her hat, that had been lost in the excitement, and then scurried back to watch the other victims' horrored faces or laughs of delight. The first form blinked, dusted off her topper a bit, and headed toward the dorm rooms, in search of her belongings.

* * *

><p>A month had passed since the cross-dresser's first day at the institution, and all of her letters home detailed to her governess the precautions she had taken since arriving. Using methods such as changing in the bathroom just before curfew was called and avoiding most Cricket practices through the use of doctors' notes (like most of Blue House did), Agetha was able to evade any mishaps pertaining to her "questionable" garments.<p>

The blonde sealed her weekly letter using the wax and stamp provided by the school, and dropped it off in the house basket for mailing. Her letters had been in code at first, then she dropped minor hints of her gender, and finally her notes held no restraint of her feminine thoughts. By now, she figured that if the headmaster really did check every article, as he was allowed to in the government-cut-off facility, he would have called her in already for answers.

The petite girl grinned to herself before catching up to a few of the other owlets she had grown to flock with, and they continued onto their first period, Latin. The boy who had been the first of the first-formers to be initiated that year's name was Rollin Peaton, and the blonde figured that if she was to blend in - she should stay beside someone who matched closest to her physical meekness.

"Eades," the other friend nodded his dark head in acknowledgement to her approach. Ignatius Sim was more of a quiet fellow who kept to his studies in the science world and very little else; the company he kept was an even smaller pool in comparison to his hobbies.

She grinned at Sim's reserved nature and greeted both boys back before glancing to the side to gaze at two passing students from Purple House. Cheslock, his contrasting hair in a wild flare as always, was demonstrating a story to Violet rather than telling it. She guessed the fag was describing beating a Green Lion in cricket practice, from his violent, excited swinging motions, but the older student didn't seem at all interested in his tale. The prefect kept his dark eyes upon the charcoal sketch he was probably brilliantly sketching with each fluid flick of his left hand; the teenager was a genius in his abilities and it remained clear as to why he had his prominent school position. The blonde girl was mesmerized by the artist's seemingly flawless features, perfectly pale skin, and harshly eyeliner rimmed eyes - and the only time she was able to rip her sterling blue orbs away from the mysterious hooded boy was when he and his partner in crime stepped onto the lawn. She visibly jerked away from her obvious stalking, knowing exactly what punishment she would receive if she ever set foot on the grass during her enrollment, and she finally turned to face forward and become involved in Peaton's unrequited monologue with the dark-haired owl student.

That morning in class, while casually translating entire sentences of a dead language into English, Agetha pondered over the intriguing wolf from earlier. She lightly pondered if he ever spoke with anyone outside of his house or the prefect circle, and if he was on the marriage market. The blonde sighed after finishing the assignment early and she chalked up that her chances of verbally speaking with him were slim at best, let alone ever meeting him outside of campus. Her eyes glided lazily over the sea of older students, only her and a few other Blue first-forms being present among the other houses' boys, and she mentally questioned if she should move up to yet another advanced class. Her governess _had _always prepared her early for marriage - and that meant a fine education worthy of a prestigious family. She took the spare moment to stack her papers neatly on her desk, fold them, and slip them into her bag so she might turn them in the next day (their proposed due date).

Once the period was over it was 9:00 a.m. and time for breakfast, so Eades met up with her duo and they strolled back to their dorm's grand mess hall. However, she failed to notice the gaze locked upon her figure from afar.

After taking a seat at one of the numerous tables, bare of any table cloth but riddled with an assortment of food, Agetha observed silently as the help began to trickle in, carrying small tea kettles and their matching metal stands. Cups of tea were soon poured and laughter was shared as the honor students began conversing about their studies and frequented stories. The vast room was bathed in the high morning sun's rays that brightly shone through the tremendous window that bore the house's crest. Shelves lined the above balcony, where books upon books were sloppily lined up one after the other, and the unlit chandeliers held only potential in the day. The blonde's attention then fell onto a new darkened kettle that was delicately placed beside her plate. She thanked the servant for his special trip and, after he left, her face lit up with extreme glee as a wide grin spread across her features.

"It's happening again; you're scaring me, Eades." Sim had glanced up from his book on Newton's laws, only to see a "boy" who seemed to be way too happy over a drink.

The girl only waved her hand at the boy before pouring out a cup of the delectable drink. "Simple pleasures, my dear friend, simple pleasures."

"An Englishman who doesn't drink tea; what is this world coming to?!" the brown-haired fledgling spread out his arms and dramatically asked the heavens.

The Latin whiz took a sip from her imported, Spanish hot chocolate before answering with, "I'm different," and smiling.

"Then you should be in Purple House if you are so different." The jet haired boy continued on with his reading, but his comment caused a few heads to turn before gossiping whispers filled the suddenly cramped space. No one took such jokes lightly in Sapphire Owl House, and what he uttered was a sheer scandal. Mixing houses was frowned upon in the school and frequent competitions made sure of this fact, whether they were physically or intellectually based. Peaton laughed at his remark to ease the tension in the room, and for the most part it worked as other awkward chuckles sounded, but the comment was still there. There were only two exceptions to this solid rule - and one of them required being either a prefect or their fag.

However, the other exception was one that Blue House was especially known for.

* * *

><p>The dining hour passed quickly, and fag time began as it did every school day. Both Sim and Peaton were swept away by their seniors and Agetha patiently waited for hers within the dorm's common room. "Eades, there you are!" a voice called, sounding with several pants placed after it.<p>

"Hawdon," she greeted as she lifted herself out of the rouge colored armchair. "Why so out of breath, pray tell?"

The third-form student pushed up his rounded glasses and removed his palms from his knees, straightening out his form. Although he was older than her, his expressions and actions were far more childish. "We both have tutoring duty for the month and it's starting today - at Cricket hour."

"You ran here to tell me that, even though it won't begin for hours?" He only nodded his blonde head vigorously. "Right, well why I have I been assigned to this? Aren't the higher forms responsible for tutoring?"

"Generally yes, but you've been requested for Latin and I have already been recommended for calculus several times previous." He scratched the back of his head with a nervous expression, worrying about her answer.

Tutoring at Weston was primarily handled by Blue House and served for the purpose of helping out the other houses in their studies so they may continue to advance in their own specific areas, while the owlets received training in teaching - should they ever choose to enter the academic world themselves. This was the second exception to becoming friends with the other members of the institution, and it also was considered tradition by the school.

"I see; that's fine then, thank you for the warning, I'll gather my past study guides in preparation then." She then dismissed the conversation and carried out her duties to the older student: ironing his clothes and cleaning his side of his shared room.


End file.
